


Calden & Julene

by aikisenshi



Series: Mala's Saga [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Disguise, Drunkenness, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Secrets, From Sex to Love, Oral Sex, Redemption, Reluctant (at first) Sex, Rescue from Rape, Small Towns, Tieflings, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 16:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16122263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aikisenshi/pseuds/aikisenshi
Summary: Calden, a mysterious young adventurer (Fighter 1/Rogue 4); meets Julene (Cleric 1 of Sarenrae), who is more than an "innocent farm girl". Her town has a secret, and they have a destiny.Work in Progress





	1. First Meetings

Calden stared into the campfire, watching it flicker and dance ever brighter in the fading light of the early Spring day. Flames swirled in a sudden breeze, cinders spinning like the woman he had seen dancing at dawn that day. She had been singing a song he knew by heart, but that had not touched his lips for over five years. Not since his mother--.

“Whooo, where did you two find this pretty piece of meat?” Gregor’s too-loud voice slurred, interrupting Calden’s reverie.

“She was wandering in the woods, all alone,” Fotak answered. “So we decided she needed some friends. Say hello, m’lady.”

Calden looked up from his barely touched drink to see two of his fully inebriated companions ogling a frightened girl held at dagger point by a third member of his adventuring party. The girl’s arms were tied behind her back at the wrist and she was gagged with pieces of her dress, which had been torn open to her waist, exposing the curves of her pale, slightly freckled skin. The curls of her light auburn hair were tangled in her captor’s long bony fingers.

She struggled against her bonds, the tall gangly man holding her jabbed her lightly in the neck, drawing a glistening drop of blood.

“I still have my dagger here, lady,” he warned, his voice lustful if somewhat slurred, “don't make me use it. Besides, I have a much better blade I’d rather prick you with.”

The girl flinched away as he rubbed his groin against her hip. Her hazel eyes desperately searched the camp, eyeing each of the men around her, looking for some chance of escape. Her eyes widened in sudden shock as her gaze locked with Calden’s.

The tall, bland-looking young man stared back, wondering at her shocked look, but began to reach towards the pair of sheathed scimitars resting nearby atop the bundle of his other belongings. He thought better of it, though, he needed a deterrent, a simple show of force, not a pitched battle in close quarters to the woman he was trying to keep from getting hurt. Calden tossed his drink into the fire and rose to his feet in a single gracefully fluid motion, then tipped back the brim of his hat to better stare down the man holding the girl captive.

“Come on, put the knife away, Bartax,” Calden warned, “The three of you are way too drunk for this, things could get messy, and this village we’re camped near is paranoid enough about our kind.”

“You must not be drunk enough, Calden,” Slurred Bartax as he continued to press the knife against the girl’s neck and lean into her. “You've never had a problem with having a bit of fun with a whore before, it's been way too long since our last one...”

He released the girl’s hair and reached around to grope at a pale pink-tipped breast as he licked the drop of blood from her neck with an oddly forked tongue.

“This one's not a whore,” Calden replied, stepping around the campfire, his hand on the hilt of the large knife sheathed on the side of his leg. “Let her go.”

“Well, look who’s become the champion of a lady’s virtue,” said Fotak with a mocking bow. “Calden, of all The Creatures.”

Raucous laughter echoed through the trees as Calden waded into the muddle.

“I said leave her!”, Calden shouted, drawing the knife and shoving Bartax away. The drunk stumbled and fell backwards into the brush at the edge of the clearing, his dagger flying from his grip.

“Hey, easy now,” said Gregor, backing away from Calden and nearly falling over as well as he wobbled drunkenly.

“Eh, jusss wants her for ‘imself, ” Bartax called from where he lay in the bushes. “You know his kind...” He cackled lasciviously.

“Come with me,” Calden said to the girl firmly. He took her arm, trying to pull her away from the campfire and towards the shadowy woods. She resisted, struggling desperately to escape her bonds. Calden hoisted her by the waist, slung her over his shoulder, and stomped away from the camp.

The men drunkenly whistled and cheered as the pair left the clearing. The girl kicked her legs and twisted, trying to escape, her screams muffled by the gag.

“Quit struggling, damn it, I’m probably saving your life.” Calden growled at the pretty girl over his shoulder, awkwardly attempting to resheath his blade, carry her, and keep his hat from getting knocked off, all at the same time. “Those guys get out of control sometimes, and people get hurt.”

The girl continued to struggle, Calden got his knife back into its sheath just in time to clamp his hat back down after a wild swing of her elbow hit him in the back of the head.

“Stop it!” He shouted sharply, swatting at the girl, his hand landing forcefully on her upturned backside. She froze in shock. Calden had not  _ intended _ to spank her, but it had blessedly stopped the struggling.

After a few more minutes of walking, Calden set the girl down and roughly spun her around to cut the cloth tying her hands.

Gods, she even  _ smelled _ alluring, Calden thought as he stepped back and tossed the girl’s bonds on the ground. Bartax was right, It  _ had _ been too long, and the fear in her hazel eyes had aroused something darker than usual in his half-demon blood. He closed his eyes and leaned over, his hands on his knees, taking slow deep breaths, trying to calm the demon-born lust raging in him.

The auburn-haired beauty turned to face him, shaking the circulation back into her hands.

“Are you alright?” She reached out to the young man’s shoulder in concern. “You really didn't need to carry--.”

He flinched away from her touch.

“You need to go,” he said, a bit breathlessly as he fought, quite literally, his inner demons. “If I know those guys, they’ll probably be passing out drunk soon, and won't follow you--.”

He paused for one more deep breath, then continued: “But I wouldn't chance being alone on the road, it's getting dark.”

Finally regaining control of himself, he stood upright and opened his eyes again, the girl, well, young woman actually, now that he noticed, was still there. She looked like she might be a bit older than his twenty years, but maybe it was just her bearing. She was shorter than he was, but then most people were, since he stood just over six foot.

She was watching him carefully with those gorgeous hazel eyes as she rubbed her wrists, she seemed to be trying to make up her mind about something.

Calden stared back, groaning inwardly as recognition finally triggered in his mind.

“You're the one who lives at the farm up the road, aren't you?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache started to form behind his eyes.

She nodded, with a puzzled look.

This was woman he had seen dance and sing in the dawn’s rays that morning…

“You don't want to walk alone, do you?”

She shook her head.

“Ok, if you trust me-- though I wouldn't if I were you,” he muttered. “I’ll walk you home.”

The young lady nodded, seeming to come to some sort of decision.

“Thank you sir.” She replied.

“I’m not a _sir_ anything, don't call me that.” He said vehemently, starting a brisk walk towards the road, straightening his hat again. Trying desperately to keep his thoughts out of the murky, demon-tainted depths that swirled in the back of his mind.

“Then what  _ do _ I call you?” she asked, hurrying to catch up.

“Calden.”

“Thank you, Calden.”

“You're welcome.”

Silence.

“Jules, by the way,” the woman piped up.

“Jewels? Did they steal something from you?”

“No, it's short for Julene... my name.”

“Oh.”

They walked in silence for a while more.

“What did that one mean about ‘of all The Creatures’ and about the village being paranoid of your ‘kind’?” The woman asked, wondering which of the insular village’s many paranoias he’d referred to.

“That's what we a-- the group calls itself: the Creatures,” he replied, somewhat hesitant. This headache was getting worse by the minute.

“But he seemed to refer to you as a ‘type’ of creature, and you yourself said: ‘our kind’.”

“Look miss, you really don't want to know any more about me, or my… friends.” Calden warned, growing frustrated at her questions.

“Why not?”

“It's too dangerous.”

“For me? Or for you?” Julene probed further.

“Both, neither, just … don't ask.” Calden snapped, anger coloring his voice.

“Too late,” the woman said, teasingly. “I’ve already asked, so why don't you just--.”

Calden spun to face the woman, hissing his words into her face. “Because we're fiend-spawn.”

Julene paused, trying to decide if he was being serious or not. “Demon-blooded? But...you all looked like normal men.”

Calden turned around and started walking again, wiping his hands down his face in frustration. “That's because some of us are lucky, and some have magic hats.”

“Now I  _ really _ don't believe you,” Julene laughed. “You're just trying to scare me away, magic hats, really?”

He stopped and turned around again, leaning his face close to hers once more. “Do you really want to chance it? What is it with you?”

“I’m inquisitive.” She replied impishly, reaching for the brim of Calden’s simple looking, yet well-made, hat. Calden caught the woman’s hand.

“Fine, you want proof?”

He dragged her off the road and threw her to the ground behind a nearby clump of bushes. Squatting beside the suddenly uneasy woman, he yanked off his hat.

“There, see?” He announced, pointing to just above his face.

A pair of glossy black horns started at his hairline, they curved back over the top of a head of thick wavy black hair that reached his shoulders. The horns were far too big to have been simply hidden under the hat he was now holding. The young man’s features had also shifted, his face had become more angular and darkly handsome with a distinct dark grey color to his smooth skin. His eyes were red with a soft glow that was fading, his anger cooling as he watched the woman study him.

No one had ever looked at his true face quite like this before. Fear - definitely, disgust - sometimes, loathing, even lust ( _ that _ had been an interesting night). But this was a look his father would have sported while studying a newly-collected botanical specimen, taking in its minute details, and being excitedly fascinated.

He rubbed at his lower back and took the opportunity to uncoil his long prehensile tail from around his waist, where he usually kept it while in disguise. The magic of the hat merely hid his features, an invisible tail could still be trod upon or horn felt if he wasn't careful. But he would get this horrible cramp if he kept his tail wrapped up for too long. The tail was dusky grey, like the rest of his skin, and tapered in size from about the diameter of his forearm where it sprouted at the base of his spine, down to about the size of his thumb before it flared out briefly in a narrow, yet bulbous, arrowhead-like shape at the tip.

Julene opened and closed her mouth a few times, she looked like she had a hundred questions stumbling over themselves to get out, and could not decide which one she wanted to ask first.

“You really don’t want to know more about me,” Calden warned, attempting to forestall her questions. “You won’t like what you find out. I’m not a good, or safe, thing to be around.”

“What did your friend mean by ‘your type’?” she asked finally, leaning back on her hands to get a better look at the somewhat frightening, yet fascinatingly handsome man. Her torn and now very revealing dress was forgotten for the moment. 

“My father is an incubus,” he answered, turning to gaze into the strangely lingering sunset. Giving Julene an excellent view of his otherworldly features in profile in the process. His ears were pointed at the top, like an elf’s.

“Incubus?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Over six feet tall, horns, bat-like wings, tail, overwhelming… um... sexual appetite,” Calden explained, now staring at the ground and fiddling with his hat, the end of his tail tapping back and forth on the ground like an annoyed cat’s. 

“But they usually choose to appear human while on this plane. Full-blooded incubi are lucky like that,” he snorted bitterly. “It helps them seduce their prey. Unfortunate half-bloods or tieflings like me are stuck using other methods to try to hide in a world that fears and hates us. It isn't very conducive to living a long happy life.”

“Oh.” Julene answered, suddenly realizing how the poor demon-spawned young man was trying desperately to avoid staring at her nearly-exposed breasts. She self-consciously sat upright, pulling her torn dress more closely around her.

“So, was your mother a witch or demon-worshipper, or, uh... forced?”

“Absolutely not!” Calden snapped, his eyes suddenly blazing in the gathering twilight. Julene scooted back in fear, her damaged clothing falling open again in her haste.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath as she re-gathered the torn edges of her bodice. “No, she was a devotee of Sarenrae, goddess of the dawn, like you. As unwise as it may have been, I was conceived on purpose, in mutual love, and wedlock.”

_ His mother, a priestess of Sarenrae,  _ married _ a demon? _ She thought incredulously, but asked aloud: “How did you know I’m a--?”

“I saw you at your morning devotions today.” Calden confessed, his grey skin flushing slightly as he avoided her gaze.

“Oh.”

“I--, I didn't mean to spy on you. I was wandering in the forest and heard your singing and…”  He paused, then finished with an apologetic shrug, “I didn't want to interrupt.”

“That was my mother's favorite hymn, and dance.” He added, a bit wistfully but with a hint of deep sorrow.

He lapsed into silence for a moment.

“What happened to her?” Julene inquired softly.

“I don't want to talk about it.” Calden snapped, turning away in an attempt to hide the tears prickling his eyes.

He stood up and donned the magic hat, his horns and tail vanished as he tapped the brim in a particular sequence. His features became bland and unremarkably human once more as he offered a hand to help Julene to her feet. She accepted, and was quietly thoughtful as they returned to the road.

“I think I like you better without the hat.” She announced, falling into step beside him. “Much more handsome.”

Calden raised an eyebrow at her with equal parts surprise and skepticism. “Well, I don't think your father would like me better without it, so it’s staying on.”

“Halvar’s not my father,” Julene countered. “My parents died of a fever when I was little. Halvar and Malene were never able to have children of their own, they took me in.”

“He still wouldn't like me very much.” Calden replied.

“How did your parents come be together?” Julene asked. “It must be a fascinating story.”

“Some other time,” Calden sighed, trying to divert the conversation. “It’s long, and look, you’re already almost home.” The farmhouse appeared as they rounded a bend in the road.

“Is that a promise?” Julene grinned.

“What?”

“That you will tell me the story some other time.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, you know where I will be at sunrise tomorrow...” She hinted, with a smirk.

Calden didn't respond, he just continued to the farmhouse gate, which he held open for the young woman, who passed him by and ran up the steps.

“Jules! Where have you been? We were about to go search for you when you didn't return by sundown.” The large grey-haired man stood on the porch, holding out work-callused hands to his adopted daughter.

“Oh Papa Hal! I was waylaid by bandits,” Julene exclaimed. “They would have killed me if this young man hadn't come along and saved me.”

“Yes, it was lucky I came along, sir,” Calden replied, following with Julene’s story (no need to mention that he was normally counted  _ among _ the group that had waylaid her), “But I will be taking my leave now that she is home safely.”

“Please, accept some coin as thanks.” The farmer offered as his wife appeared in the doorway to gather their ward safely home.

“I have enough, no need.” Calden replied, waving the suggestion away.

“Some dinner? A drink?” The farmer offered.

“No, thank you, good night” he said, and quickly left the farmhouse behind.

  
  


Calden returned to camp to find his drunken companions, as expected, passed out around the dying fire. He packed his belongings and a somewhat larger than equal share of the group’s ill-gotten gains, and turned his back on his erstwhile compatriots. His travels with them had been long and adventurous, and seemed fun and exciting to the angry lost teenager he had been five years ago, but he had seen his ‘friends’ fall further and further into their dark natures. They had dragged Calden down with them, and he had done many things he was ashamed of. The decision had been plaguing him for a while, but tonight he made it final, he would be one of the Creatures no more.

He walked aimlessly into the night. He wondered where he should go, back home? No, he was not ready to face his father again, or the clergy of Sarenrae’s temple in Kenabres. His father would accept him back unconditionally, but Calden was not ready to face him, not yet, it would mean having to deal with the events that drove him away.

He wondered why the woman, this Julene, had accepted his nature so quickly. He could swear the first time their eyes had met across the fire, her expression was surprise mingled with… recognition? What was her story? Should he accept her invitation to meet her again?

In the waning hours of the night, he found himself in a clearing deep in the woods. A large boulder stood at the center of it. He dropped his pack on the ground, sat down, and leaned back against the sun-warmed stone, staring up at the fading stars. For the first time in nearly five years, he felt homesick and lost.

  
  


Julene sat in her room late into the night, her head resting on her interlaced fingers, her elbows on her knees.

_ Dear gods, what was happening to her? _

First, she'd received a vision this morning during her devotions. The face of a somewhat unremarkable young man had appeared before her, with the distinct impression that she was to seek him out. That he was more than what he seemed, needed her help, and their fates were intertwined.

Then her capture that evening by those men as she had wandered the woods near her home, pondering her goddess’ message. Discovering the young man from her vision in the ruffians’ camp. Only to have  _ her _ be rescued by  _ him _ . Wasn't he the one the Dawnflower had said needed help?

Calden was an enigma to her. He was obviously good-hearted, he could have taken advantage of her in any number of ways. From what he had briefly explained of his heritage, had probably had to actively keep himself under control. Julene sympathized with the poor man, she herself had similar… issues occasionally. There had been more than a few secret dalliances over the years with handsome young strangers.

But this time was different, and not just because of the divine message foretelling their meeting. Calden acted as if he was dangerous and a fallen creature, unworthy of anything good. Julene did not believe that. One of the core tenets of Sarenrae’s teachings was redemption for all who desired it. How did the goddess want her to help this young man? Could she convince him that whatever he may have done, he could still be redeemed? That even he was worthy of being loved and cared about?

Julene decided to visit her secluded shrine at dawn once more, and ask for further guidance. She lay down to sleep, her mind, and then dreams, full of the mysterious, and handsome, young man.

 


	2. The Past is Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting is continued, Calden shares his story.

A voice was singing, a hymn of praise for the dawn of a new day. Calden hummed along, feeling the peace of the song carry him back to memories of his youth, to his mother’s morning prayers, echoed throughout the temple of Sarenrae by other voices singing, chanting, or dancing their praise to The Everlight. As he lost himself in the memories, tears stung his eyes, then trickled down the side of his cheek.

A hand caressed his face as the song ended, it wiped away a tear and brushed his hair back, tucking it behind one of his horns.

Calden came instantly awake, sitting upright and looking around in a panic.

Julene sat in the grass beside the standing stone he had fallen asleep against, his magic hat resting in her lap.

“What are you doing!?” he said frantically, snatching the hat away. “Are you trying to get me hunted down and killed? How did you find me?”

“No one is around,” she said, smiling. “I know the area around my shrine.”

Calden stood and studied his surroundings as he returned the enchanted hat to its rightful place and reactivated its magic. “You do not know that, I was able to watch you for a while here yesterday morning.”

Julene blushed, remembering Calden’s confession the night before. “Well, besides handsome young men wandering far from the road, no one else comes here. There is an ancient legend that this part of the forest is haunted by a demon, and young ladies who wander in these woods are taken by him and give birth to fiend-spawn.”

Calden roughly wiped the tears from his face and let out a sardonic laugh as he retrieved and shouldered his pack. “Well, that explains the paranoia. But if I stick around here with you their legend could be proven right, I have to go.”

“But, you promised me a story,” Julene begged. “Please stay, your journey can wait another hour, can it not? Besides, I packed enough breakfast for two this morning, just in case you decided to show up.”

“I didn't decide to show up, I--,” Calden faltered. “I just wandered here… by accident,” he finished lamely.

She held out a small loaf of fresh-baked bread, inviting him to sit and eat.

Sighing, the young man dropped his pack and sat down, leaning back against the stone once more. He accepted the proffered loaf and took a few bites, gathering his thoughts before he began to tell his story.

  
“My grandfather, Sir Calden Lightbringer, was a Paladin of Iomedae, goddess of Justice and Honor. He led multiple campaigns into the Worldwound, through all three Mendevian Crusades.”

“I’ve heard people mention the Crusades, but what's the ‘Worldwound’?” Julene asked, slicing some fruits and cheese on a small plate.

Calden eyed Julene incredulously as he finished the last bite of his bread.

“It's the _reason_ for the Crusades. It's a rip in reality, it leads directly to the Abyss. Demons have been wandering out of it for 85 years. About 75 years ago, the kingdom of Mendev, that borders the Worldwound, called for a crusade to defeat the demons. There's been three of them so far, if that tells you how successful they've been.” Calden stared sullenly at the ground, lost in his thoughts for a while.

“Please, continue.” Julene urged, handing Calden a piece of fruit.

“Well, while leading a training and scouting mission one day, my grandfather’s troop encountered a man who said he had knowledge of demon horde movements in the area. He offered to share his knowledge in exchange for asylum.

Grandfather was skeptical, especially when the man asked to meet him in private, and revealed that he was an incubus. The demon seemed sincere, though. When my grandfather asked Iomedae for a glimpse into the incubus’ heart, he was surprised to find out the demon wasn't evil.”

“A demon that isn't evil?” Julene asked. “Is that possible?”

“Despite what most people --especially most Paladins-- think, yes, it's possible.”

“Then anyone can be redeemed, can't they?” Julene smiled at Calden.

Calden grunted in grudging agreement, and continued.

“Grandfather decided to test the demon, whose name was Jazeel, and found his knowledge was useful and his request for asylum was genuine. Grandfather kept the demon under close watch, but allowed him asylum and brought him back to the garrison at Star Keep. Grandfather’s second in command and other veteran knights still had misgivings, though. At their insistence, Grandfather kept Jazeel in demon-binding magical restraints.”

“Understandable,” Julene replied.

“One of the first people waiting to welcome the scouting party back to the keep was Sir Calden’s eighteen year old daughter, Shadi. She was a cleric of Sarenrae, like her late mother before her. Shadi was fascinated by my grandfather’s strange captive, and by Grandfather’s story. The demon was a perfect embodiment of the Dawnflower’s tenet of Redemption. It didn’t hurt that Jazeel was also incredibly handsome.

Jazeel was put in the dungeons at Star Keep, where he was visited almost daily by my mother. She took it upon herself to be Jazeel’s spiritual guide to redemption. She learned that Jazeel was somewhat of a scholar, and had become fascinated by the concept of Love. Primal Lust is the natural driving force behind an incubus. It was still an occasionally overwhelming problem for Jazeel. His abnormally (for a demon) methodical, scholarly mind was usually able to somewhat keep his passions under control.

After realizing how hard her presence was for his self-control sometimes, Shadi began to research a cure for Jazeel’s demonic lust. Or at least some sort of salve. Jazeel helped, studying the tomes of botany, herbology, and alchemy my mother brought to his cell. Eventually a concoction was found, it just had to be drunk daily as a morning tea. Along the way, though, Jazeel developed an interest in herbology and devotion to Sarenrae. The Goddess is his only hope of being saved from absolute oblivion when he dies.”

“She will intercede for him, if his heart is true.” Julene assured Calden.

“Yes, I know the Doctrine, thank you, I did grow up in a temple.” Calden snapped.

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, it’s just a... touchy subject.” Calden sighed, then continued his story.

“About six months after my grandfather's scouting expedition, my father’s information got too old to be useful to the Crusade, and a decision had to be made as to what to do with him. Many, especially among the paladins of Iomedae, were still not convinced that a demon even _could_ be redeemed, and argued that Jazeel should be destroyed.

A trial was held. My mother testified of Jazeel’s path of redemption, and begged for him to be released to continue his journey. Her testimony swayed the judges, who allowed my father to go free. Shari wanted to take him to live and study with her at the temple of Sarenrae in Kenabres. But the crusader city is covered by a magical field that prevents demonic teleportation, and destroys any demons that come close. A sympathetic magic user who had attended the trial made him an amulet that would protect him from the field.”

“That was trusting of him.” Julene mused.

“Her, actually. She’s one of my father’s good friends now, she runs a herbalist's shop in Kenabres, but she's got to be more than that what she seems if she's the one who actually made his amulet.”

“Hmm, lots of people have secrets.” Julene replied. “What happened next?”

“Many people were unhappy with the decision. My grandfather always believed it contributed to the witch hunts that started to get out of control in the next few years, eventually sparking the Third Crusade.

Over the next few years, though, Jazeel got his chance to study true Love first-hand as he worked with my mother almost daily. Performing penances for his evil past by working in the temple gardens, attending lectures, and giving time and service to the churches in Kenabres. Jazeel eventually gathered the courage (when he finally felt he was worthy to consider it), to meet with Sir Calden. He asked for Grandfather's permission to pursue a relationship with his daughter. Sir Calden had serious misgivings, even after my father’s three years of penances, and forbade it. But soon after turning Jazeel away, he got a visit from my mother, asking for his advice on the same thing, and he realized there wasn't much he could do to stop their feelings.

My grandfather eventually relented, and my parents got married. My grandfather later called it ‘a beautiful celebration of both their union and the power of redemption’.

I wasn't born for many years later, when my aging grandfather and my mother together somehow convinced my father that even a half-demon child would be loved and cherished by all. They had been actively preventing having children up until that point. I’ve been told that my mother's pregnancy was difficult, demon blood and human blood do not always mix easily. Most end with the mother or the child dying, often both. I’ve been told my mother and I both required many prayers to Sarenrae on our behalf to just survive my birth.”

Calden snorted morosely. “Who knows? Maybe it would have been better that way, if I had not survived. It would have saved a lot of extended heartache and trouble for my parents, and the world as a whole.”

Julene put a hand on Calden’s arm. “Never think that, all have a reason for being alive. Even you.”

She reached down and took his hand in her own, he was too lost in his memories to pull away.

“At any rate, they never tried having children again. My grandfather adored me, though, and though he was nearly eighty years old, he kept me at Star Keep, training me as a squire in the temple of Iomedae as soon as I was able to lift a toy sword. But then he died when I was ten, and the new leaders of the garrison were finally able to get rid of the demon-spawn child in their midst.

I spent the next five years living at the temple of Sarenrae with my parents. Most who didn’t know my parents closely assumed I had been adopted by them. They had been living at Star Keep when I was born, and hadn't returned to Kenabres until after Grandfather had taken me as a squire. My parents didn’t bother to notice what people thought, or explain otherwise, it was easier to keep my father’s nature a secret.

I continued my sword training, this time with the temple dervishes, their fighting style fit better with my natural abilities than my grandfathers’ style had, anyway. The swordmistress said I was the best student she’d ever trained. Yet when an outskirt of Kenabres was attacked one day when I was fifteen, I was told by my parents to stay at the temple while my they went to help defend the city.” Calden clenched his fists and rubbed at his eyes, which were beginning to well up with tears.

Julene put a consoling hand on Calden’s shoulder.

“Maybe if I had disobeyed and followed them, my mother wouldn’t have been killed. Maybe I would have only died with her. But when the defenders returned, carrying the dead and wounded, my father returned carrying my mother's corpse.

I went crazy, my father and I argued, I blamed him for her death, and in my anger I drew my weapons and attacked. He was forced to drop his human disguise --in the middle of the temple’s central atrium-- to disarm me.

I’m sure it traumatized the majority of the temple, most still didn’t know what he was. But it just enraged me more.”

Calden’s tone became heated, “Of all the things that I’ve inherited from him, his ability to just… _be_ a normal looking human whenever he wants is the one I didn’t get. I have always resented him for that. He has no idea what it was like getting chased down a street as a child, or being spit on by people whose entire purpose is to destroy _creatures_ like you.”

Calden’s tone became mournful again, tears were beginning to trickle down his magically disguised face.

“I ran away from the temple that day. I left the city, and never went back, not even for my mother’s funeral. I couldn't face him. Mother loved me and taught me to live, Father just gave me his weaknesses and no way to cope with them. I’ve spent the last five years trying to run from my pain, falling further and further from what I know is right and good. I’ve betrayed my mother’s memory by forgetting the lessons she and Father taught me. I’ve let my father’s half of my being take over.

I miss him, though,” Calden admitted tearfully. “Gods damn him for his demon blood in me, but he's the only family I have. I’m so alone, and he doesn't even know if I’m alive.” He buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

Julene couldn't stand to see his pain, loneliness and self-loathing any more, she had to stop this. The young woman got up on her knees, hiked up her skirt, and swung a leg across the distraught young man’s lap. Calden’s head jerked up in surprise as she sat down astride him with a knee on either side of his hips.

Julene yanked the magic hat from Calden’s head, revealing his true grey-skinned and tear-stained face. She cupped his handsome angular jawline in her hands and began kissing the salty wetness from his cheeks.

“Don't do that,” Calden gasped and leaned back. He tried to pull away from her, but he ran into the shrine, the tips of his horns scraping against the standing stone.

Julene grabbed a handful of the bottom of the demon-spawn’s shirt, tugging it loose from where it had been tucked into his pants. She leaned in and kissed his mouth, hard. He moaned and turned away reluctantly, hands scrabbling across the stone behind him, looking for some sort of hand-hold to pull himself away. His breathing was becoming more shallow and rapid as he gasped: “I - I won't be able to control myself--. Stop--!”

“I don't want to stop, and _you_ need this,” Julene replied, her own breathing quickening as she tore off and tossed aside her blouse. She sucked in a gasp as her breasts were exposed to the brisk Spring morning air. A shiver ran through her, causing her already firm nipples to suddenly harden further.

“ _I_ need this.” She whispered.

Julene slipped her hands up under Calden’s shirt, running her hands over his muscular chest, enjoying the feel of his warm smooth dark skin. He shuddered slightly beneath her touch. She lifted the shirt up, he allowed her to pull it over his head and free of his arms, tossing it aside as she slid an arm around his back, pressing her naked chest against his. She silenced further protests with another kiss as she reached between their bodies and started working on the lacings at the front of his pants.

He whimpered and put a hand on her hip, setting his palm against the bone as if to push her away, but twitched and suddenly slid his hand around to the small of her back, pulling her tightly against him as he returned the passionate kisses.

“Don't worry my poor lonely demon-spawn,” Julene murmured, leaning back so that she could use both hands to more quickly finish undoing Calden’s pants. “I know what I’m getting myself into, and you need, and _deserve_ , to feel loved.”

“But you're--.” Calden began, in half-hearted protest, but trailed off as he stared hungrily at the modestly sized yet full and pleasingly round breasts displayed before him.

“What? An innocent farmgirl?” She interrupted. She leaned forward to nip at one of his pointed ears, pressing that pleasing display against his chest again.

“You're not the only one with secrets, my poor lonely soul,” Julene whispered into his ear, slipping a hand down the front of his now fully unlaced pants.

She slid her hand around the inside edge of his thigh, curving her fingers to cup his balls, giving them a slight squeeze as she stroked upwards, working free his already fully erect cock. She raised an eyebrow in curiosity as her questing hand felt the odd, interesting structure of it. The shaft was ribbed with smooth yet firm ridges that ringed its entire length.

Calden let loose an almost bestial growl, seized Julene across the back with one arm and threw himself forward. He slammed the woman backwards into the new spring grass with a ferocity that almost knocked the breath from her lungs.

Calden eyes glowed with the same demonic light she had briefly seen the day before as he suddenly struggled to free himself from his legwear. Pulling them off was hampered by still knotted laces in the _back_ above the hole where the tiefling’s tail emerged. Julene hadn't thought about needing to unlace anything else, she started to sit up again to help the frantic young man, but he shoved her back to the ground. A knife appeared in his hand, he slashed the lacings open and violently kicked his leggings to the side once his tail and legs were free.

Calden flicked the knife into the ground and descended upon the breathless woman. He propped himself above Julene on one extended arm and quickly ran his free hand along her side and up her raised thigh until he felt the bare flesh of her leg. He then slid his hand down, pushing aside her tangled skirts, searching for her underclothing.

He grunted in surprise when his questing hand encountered no such barrier, only her soft skin and the patch of coarse damp hair between her outspread legs. His hand lingered for a moment there, slipping his first two fingers inside her, testing her readiness, and finding her fully wet and slick.

Julene let out a moan, tilting her hips and spreading her thighs wide in invitation. He accepted with a vengeance, withdrawing his hand and using it to guide his achingly hard cock into her with an almost frantic urgency. He paused for a brief second, sighing in pleasure at the feel of her hot, tight sheath encasing his full length. Then he began to move within her, thrusting deeply, again and again, his pace urgent and insistent. It had been far too long since he had damped this unquenchable fire he suffered.

Julene had performed this dance before, with a few different partners over the years, but this time was... different. Not just because of his intriguing anatomy. Never had a man felt so desperate, but also so... right. It was as if their joining was more than physical, as if something in their very natures called to one another to be completed in each other’s embrace. She moved with him, rocking her hips up to meet his almost painfully deep thrusts, feeling the fascinatingly ridged shaft of his cock vibrating within her as he moved.

He mumbled something, began whispering it over and over again as his rhythm intensified. Julene wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close and leaning in to hear. He was _apologizing_! Whispering “I’m sorry,” again and again as his breath started to come in ragged gasps.

“No, no apologies,” Julene admonished. She held him tighter, cradling his head against her shoulder, tears filling her eyes for the poor tortured young man, “I told you, I need this too.”

Julene wrapped her legs around Calden’s hips, forcing him deeper and harder within. She grasped his demonic horns, using them to guide his head towards her left breast as she arched her back, positioning his mouth over the taut, sensitive nipple.

He obliged, flicking his tongue across and around the dark flushed circle of flesh at the tip of her pale breast, continuing his urgent thrusts as he began to nibble and suck on her.

The frantic pace continued, pushing Julene closer and closer to the edge. Small involuntary sounds began to escape from her throat, half moans, half grunts, that increased in frequency and volume as his thrusting spear seemed to pierce into her very soul. Her vocalizations triggered an equal response in her partner, his breath came in ragged gasps between grunts of effort and pleasure that suddenly ceased as he came into her with a feral cry of triumph and release. The quivering shudders of that rippled sword inside her tipped her over that edge, and into a wave of soul-shattering ecstasy she had never felt before. She rode the wave again as she ground her hips against him and he held the erection as long as he could, spurting the last drops his hot seed inside her as she moaned her pleasure.

With a sudden gasp he started breathing again. Calden slowly withdrew and collapsed beside Julene in a shaking heap. Julene heard his breath coming in shuddering heaves as she slowly came back to her own senses.

Calden was sobbing, mournful, painful sobs wracking the depths of his soul. Julene turned to him and held him tightly, his face against her shoulder as she stroked his wavy sweat-soaked hair.

“Let it go,” Julene murmured. “All the pain, all the hurt, all the sorrow, all the sins. The goddess says, the Dawn Brings a New Day, for anyone who seeks it.”

“Thank you” he whispered, between gasps. “Thank you.”

Calden’s sobs eventually slowed, and he fell into a deep exhausted sleep, his head resting on her shoulder, one arm around her waist, his long demonic tail twined around her near leg, still seeking comfort in her presence.

Julene lay there beside him, stroking his hair and wondering what the future held for her and this poor broken young man. She looked up into the sky, feeling the goddess’ warm sunlight on her bare skin, wondering if there was more She intended for them. But for now, Julene needed to get back to the farmhouse before she was missed.

After carefully extricating herself from his embrace, Julene covered Calden with the blanket she had brought along for their picnic breakfast. Then she gathered her things, hurriedly dressed, and set out for home.


	3. No Escape from Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calden is ashamed, he tries to run, but he can't escape his destiny. Neither can Julene.

Calden’s rational mind slowly regained consciousness. He found himself curled into a fetal position on the fragrant Spring grass. He felt physically and emotionally spent, but somehow more at peace than he had felt for years. He was also naked, he realized as he started to sit up, and covered with a blanket he did not recognize.

He looked around, it was mid morning. He was alone in the forest glade with the standing stone altar. He remembered only flashes of the morning. Skin on skin... his dusky grey against her flushed peach… Her hands unhesitatingly touching his accursed demon horns... An overwhelming rush of both emotional and sexual release as he climaxed inside her, but nothing more.

Calden rested his face in his hands, feeling profoundly ashamed of himself. He'd completely surrendered to the Need. Had become a barely sentient beast, with nothing left except the need to dominate and satisfy himself. He had no idea of what he had done, exactly. He didn't even remember if she had reached climax herself, something he always took care to do with his sexual partners, even those he had paid.

He sighed and began seeking out and gathering his scattered clothing. He wondered in passing if he had the materials to repair the slashed lacings he discovered on the back of his pants. He dug another pair of trousers out of his traveling pack and got dressed.

The young tiefling shook out the unfamiliar quilt and began to fold it, but paused, unsure what he was going to do with it. He considered returning it to the young woman at her farmhouse, but his shame was too strong. He did not want to face the woman he had probably nearly raped. If he remembered correctly (it was all a bit fuzzy still) she had initiated the encounter, but he had taken control so quickly and completely... No, he couldn't face her, best for him to get away as soon as possible. Calden hung the quilt over a branch in a tree at the edge of the clearing, she would find it tomorrow morning when she came here to her glade for sunrise devotions, he intended to be long gone by then.

Calden hefted his pack and weapons and set off into the woods, following a game trail that headed in a vague Southerly direction, avoiding the road completely. He did not want to chance running into his former companions. They had probably by now discovered he, and his more than generous helping of the party’s shared treasury, were gone.

It was near noon when Calden suddenly emerged into a clearing in the forest. It was open to the sky, floored with soft Spring grass, and in the center there was a familiar looking flat-topped standing stone. Calden was wondering how many other old shrines there were hidden in these woods when he saw it -- a folded blanket draped over a tree limb across the glade.

Calden cursed, somehow in the deeper forest he had gotten turned around and come right back to where he had started. He passed through the glade, steering clear of the altar and the tangle of emotion and half-memories of the morning it represented. He set off to the South once again, this time making sure of the position of the sun and time of day and aligning himself accordingly.

It was late afternoon when Calden crossed into a forest clearing again, and walked straight into a blanket, draped over a branch of a tree. It was, once again, Julene’s quilt. _Perhaps she'd left another blanket out in the woods near another standing stone?_ He thought desperately, trying to grasp at any explanation besides the one that deepened his guilt and shame. The tiefling warily approached the stone, crouched, and inspected the side of it. He could see the scratches his horns had left in the stone’s patina. When he'd tried to get away from the young woman, while he still had control of himself. It was the same shrine, he was repeatedly being led back here. Calden refused to be coerced, he was _not_ going to face the woman. He stood and stomped out of the clearing; this time, heading north.

Barely an hour had passed when the tiefling stumbled suddenly over a root and fell. He found himself on his hands and knees, his enchanted hat bouncing away from him across the soft grass. He was at the edge of Julene’s glade once again. He growled in frustration and pounded a grey-skinned fist against the ground. Calden sat back on his heels, raising his face to the bright afternoon sun.

“Alright, I get it,” Calden yelled into the sky, his eyes blazing crimson. “I’m supposed to stay here...”

Calden stood and retrieved his hat. Then unslung his pack and tossed it up onto a limb of a nearby oak, frightening a flock of white doves which took wing and circled the glade before settling down in another tree. He scrambled up after the pack, finding a somewhat secure perch mostly hidden from the ground. He arranged some branches and leaves as further camouflage and settled in with a defiant grunt.

“...You can't force me to talk to her, though.”

\---

The day passed slowly and uneventfully, especially compared to the morning’s excitement. Julene had left her blanket covering the young man in hope that he'd return it to her at the farmhouse and she would get to talk to him again. To give her another chance to try to discover what else she might be meant to do to help him. But, the day passed on without a glimpse of him.

Julene wondered if she had done all that the Goddess had needed her to. Had she only been meant to give him a moment of comfort and release on his journey? A morning of passion without a glance behind? There had to be more, she had to have faith that she was needed as more than a warm body. There was more to this encounter than the random ‘roll in the hay’ she'd had with other travelers. She had never had that deep emotional resonance with those men that she had felt with the mysterious demon-spawned young man.

She finished her daily chores around the farm quickly. She decided to go to her shrine for sunset devotions. She didn't always have a chance to visit at sunset. She was always there for sunrise devotions, but sunset was far too often a simple hasty pause at suppertime with Halvar and Malene. Today, however, it was a perfect excuse to check to see if the strange young tiefling was still lingering somewhere nearby.

 ---

It was just before sunset when Calden heard the sound of footsteps in the forest outside the clearing. He kept himself perfectly still and watched silently from his perch in the tree.

It was Julene, as she entered the clearing she looked around as if hoping to find someone. She seemed disappointed when she did not.

The auburn-haired woman came to stand by the stone. She sang a hymn, facing the setting sun with her clasped hands resting on the altar. She finished the song and began praying, quietly. Calden could not hear her words, but Julene looked troubled. She didn't seem to be getting much comfort from her song or prayers at first. After a while, though, her furrowed brow eased and she suddenly smiled that small, secret-filled smile.

Julene finished her communion and turned to leave as the day’s light faded. She paused briefly as she walked past the hanging blanket and brushed a hand on it, giving it a wistful smile.

“Good night, Calden Demon-spawn,” the young woman called into the twilight.

Calden groaned and let his head fall back against the trunk with a thud.

“I will leave you my blanket again, the Spring nights can get cold up here near the mountains.” Then she continued out of the clearing, humming to herself, leaving the quilt behind.

Once she was far enough away, Calden dropped from the tree and traced her path to the edge of the clearing. He rested a hand on the quilt thoughtfully.

From her look as she touched the quilt, Julene seemed to hold no ill will towards him, despite their encounter that morning. The idea eased his mind a bit. He was still ashamed had lost control and had paid no heed to how he was treating her.

Perhaps he _could_ face her, try to make amends? What could he do as penance for his sin? Moreover, what could he do in reparation for his sins for the past five years? He had lied, cheated, burgled and stolen from countless people in his time with the Creatures. His victims had all deserved it, he'd convinced himself at the time. He knew better, though, and the guilt had been weighing on him.

The tiefling wandered towards the center of the glade, finally stopping beside the pillar of granite. Sarenrae’s ankh was roughly chiseled into the center of the flat top. Calden traced the shape with a finger as he gathered his thoughts, and his courage.

“You obviously have something planned for me, Dawnflower, probably involving that woman. But I’m not sure I know how to listen for your guidance any more. I’ve been running for so long, because turning back would mean facing my past, my mother's death.” Calden took a shuddering breath before continuing, his voice at a whisper. “What would you have me do, Lady of the Dawn?”

\---

“Excuse me, Miss Julene, wasn't it? I found this blanket in a field nearby, might it be yours?” Calden asked, standing in the morning sun outside the farmhouse fence, holding the quilt.

The young woman hanging laundry out to dry in front of the farmhouse turned and grinned at Calden.

“Oh, my,” she said in a playful tone. “Saved by you again, sir, thank you so much.”

“Did you leave a blanket out in the back field after morning prayers again, Jules?” The old woman sitting on the farmhouse porch tisked, looking up from her sewing.

“Does it happen often?” Calden queried. “People finding and returning your lost blankets?” He asked with a raised eyebrow as Julene came over to retrieve the blanket.

“Oh, occasionally,” she replied with a crooked grin. “This is the first time in many months, but Malene likes to harp me so about it.”

“Occasionally.” Calden murmured, narrowing his eyes at the young woman. How many times _had_ she left a blanket over a young man while she ran back to the farmhouse before she was missed? Julene just smiled that secret smile again as she turned and carried the quilt into the farmhouse.

“You left so suddenly the other night, we weren't able to thank you properly,” said Halvar, noticing Calden. He was coming around the side of the house with a pail of chicken feed.

“We are in your debt for rescuing Julene from those ruffians,” Halvar continued. “She was almost raped and might have been killed from what she told us. You saved her life, and preserved her virtue.”

Calden choked. He coughed quietly to clear his throat. He didn't want to see what Julene’s reaction to that statement was, he was glad she had not reemerged from the house. He did notice, however, Malene roll her eyes behind her husband’s back. Well, she at least knew her adopted daughter wasn't the maiden her husband thought she was.

Julene came out of the house with another basket of laundry. Calden rested his hands on the waist-high gate, leaning against it with a sigh, looking down as he spoke.

“Actually, sir, I have a confession to make--”

Julene looked up from her laundry basket in sudden panic.

“--I realized after bringing Miss Julene home the other night that I have been walking a path for many years that could very well have led me to be one of those very ruffians that accosted your daughter. I want to leave that path, and I have been... inspired, to begin to try to make amends by staying around here helping your family for a few days.”

Calden stood upright, shrugging off his travelling pack and placing it on the ground beside the fence.

“Are there any tasks you need help with around your farm, sir?” Calden continued as he unslung the baldric that carried the pair of sheathed scimitars across his back. He added the weapons to the pile of gear. “I grew up in a city, so I do not know much about farm chores. Well, besides caring for horses. But I am able and willing to learn.”

“I appreciate your honesty, young man,” said Halvar. He walked to the gate and reached across it to clap Calden on the shoulder. “And I would be honored and appreciative of helping you with your penances. Please, come in.”

The greying farmer opened the gate and welcomed the young stranger to his home with an outstretched hand. Calden clasped it firmly as he entered the gate.

“So, where do you need me?”

“Well,” Halvar pondered, stroking his bushy salt-and-pepper beard. “Help Jules with hanging the laundry, I’ll finish up the chores I’ve started in the barn and take a few minutes to decide where best to use you, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Calden replied, and joined Julene by the clothesline.

“What are you doing?” She muttered sharply as she pinned a blouse to the line.

“Sticking around for a few days.” He murmured, handing her the next piece of clothing from the basket. “Changing my life.”

The young man leaned closer and whispered, “I owe you a penance too, you know.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” the young woman mused.

Calden just smiled.

 

“Every time my cattle wander back there, they get sick.” Halvar explained while pointing Calden to a back corner of his pasture. “There's something bad out there they keep eating. I want you to clear out all the brush and weeds so the good pasture grass can grow in.”

“Aye, sir.” Calden replied with a small salute.

Halvar eyed the young stranger as he handed over the shovel and long handled wood axe he'd brought along.

“Have you had military training, son? You remind me of my brother, last time I saw him. He went off and joined the Crusades, came home after the first one died out, full of stories of battles against demon spawn.”

Halvar made a sign against evil, and spat on the ground. Calden unconsciously checked his hat was secure and moved a bit further away from the superstitious farmer.

“But, I guess life around here got too boring for him, so he went back when the Second Crusade was launched. I never saw him again.”

“My grandfather was knight commander of a garrison near Kenabres.” Calden explained quietly as he began to dig through his pack to retrieve his leather gauntlets. They'd have to do for work gloves. “I spent the first part of my childhood as his squire, until he passed away. His successor and I... didn't get along, so I left.”

Halvar grunted. “Well, good thing you got out of there and found your way finally to a more sensible life. Get to work, I’ll send Julene out with some more water after a bit, your waterskin there is looking a bit low.”

“Aye sir, it is. Thank you.” Calden replied as he pulled his gloves on, then touched the brim of his hat in respect. Halvar nodded and left the young man to his work.

 

“This is what you needed those old burlap sacks for?”

Calden turned at the sudden voice, he had been so focused on his work he hadn't heard Julene’s approach. He stuck his shovel into the ground and walked over to the woman. She was sitting on a hillock by the piles of greenery he had sorted as he cleared the shrubs.

Julene held out a full waterskin to Calden as he sat beside her on the ground. He took it, nodding in thanks, and drank.

“I found what’s making your father’s cows sick,” Calden announced as he recapped the waterskin and handed it back to Julene. He picked up one of the carefully bundled plants. A piece of old burlap was wrapped around the base, holding a good amount of dirt to protect the roots until it could be transplanted.

“It’s this plant here. It’s poisonous in large amounts to livestock. It does need to be cleared out, along with the other scrub brush. Your village healer may buy these plants from you, though, the berries and leaves have antiseptic properties.”

Julene tilted her head. “Anti-- what?”

“--Septic.” Calden replied. “It means it keeps away infections.”

“Ah. Like marigold oil.”

“Yes, but stronger, and more rare, so they might pay you a good amount for these. Or, you could plant some by your house and harvest them yourself to sell or trade.” Calden handed Julene the plant bundle. He stood, retrieved the shovel, and went back to his work.

Julene watched Calden work for a time, enjoying the interplay of the young man’s muscles beneath the skin of his bare arms as he dug the shovel into the fresh earth. She wondered that a wandering swordsman should know so much about the healing properties of plants, but then she remembered his story. His father, the disguised demon, was an herbalist and alchemist at a temple of Sarenrae. Despite his strained relationship with his father, Calden had probably learned more good from him than he realized.

Calden paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from his cheek with the back of his glove, then removed the leather gauntlet and ran a hand through his damp black hair, shaking it out to better let the cool Spring air dry it.

Julene squinted. “Wait, where is your magic hat?”

Calden pointed to the folded strip of cloth that wrapped across his forehead and down around the nape of his neck under his hair.

“But…”

“It wouldn't be very useful if it had to be a hat all the time,” the half-incubus explained. He set aside the shovel and picked up the axe to chop at a stubborn root. “It can change to be whatever headgear I need it to be, as a hat it kept getting caught in the bushes and nearly got knocked off.”

“Huh, useful.” Julene replied. “I’ve never really seen something magical like that up close before. Just a few of the charms the tinkers bring to town occasionally.”

Calden made a scoffing sound, “Those are usually fake, made to scam coin off of ignorant peasants.”

“The one I bought works, thank you very much.” Julene huffed, fingering a necklace hidden under her blouse. She felt a bit annoyed at being insulted indirectly.

“What is it supposed to do?” The well-travelled young man asked her, between fluid swings of the axe. He was far too graceful at doing that, it was somewhat -- enticing.

“It um, prevents--,” Julene blushed furiously, coughing slightly. “--Prevents pregnancy.”

Calden froze mid-swing and groaned, dropping the axe-head against the ground and leaning on the haft.

“Ye gods and goddesses,” Calden half swore, half prayed, rubbing his forehead. That headache from day before yesterday was coming back. “I hope for both our sakes that it works--”

“It has so far.” Julene interjected.

“--and that you were wearing it yesterday morning.” Calden finished. He didn’t remember seeing her wearing it, but then, he still didn't remember half of that morning.

Silence stretched for an awkward moment, until Calden walked over and squatted next to the young woman. “Julene, you did have it?”

Julene, not meeting Calden’s eyes, finally nodded. It wasn't very reassuring, but there was nothing Calden could do about it now except pray everything worked out. What was done was done.

“It’s time for me to get back to the house, there's work to be done.” Julene said, a little too quickly. She stood up and held out a basket, “Here's some dinner Malene sent, Halvar says you are welcome to join us for supper at sundown.”

Calden took the basket and set it aside.

“Thank them for me. I will consider it, but do not expect or wait for me if I am not there before sunset.”

Calden stood, hefted the axe again, and returned to his work.

Julene turned and ran back to the farmhouse.

 

“Damn it,” Julene swore to herself over and over as she ran across the field. She had not been _wearing_ the necklace yesterday morning during their encounter in the grove. She had stuck it in the pocket of her skirt, intending to put it on, but had gotten distracted by packing a picnic breakfast and then actually finding the young man asleep in the glade. Perhaps having it in her skirt pocket was close enough? Julene was not sure how the magic worked, the trader had just said it ‘prevented pregnancy if worn during the act’. She had always remembered to wear it before, why had she not been careful this time?

“Oh, Goddess,” Julene breathed, stopping mid-stride. “Is this your plan? Am I to bear him a child?”

Julene shook her head. No, she was reading too much into this, it was just a thoughtless mistake, and the chances were slim that just one encounter without it could... But there was a chance. Should she go to town and ask Madam Walen for a potion?

Julene fell to her knees and raised her face to the sun. “Guide me Goddess, what should I do?”

As she recited the prayer for guidance, a feeling of peace washed over her. A feeling that she didn't need to worry, she was being watched over.

“Thank you.” Julene whispered. As she stood and continued to the farmhouse, she still worried at the vague, though comforting response.


	4. Penances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calden continues performing his penances, including the penance he owes Julene...

The early morning sky brightened as the sun peeked over the eastern mountains, its golden rays shone down, warming the young woman's auburn hair, then crept down to her face, then chest and arms, soon illuminating the standing stone upon which rested a book. Julene reread her favorite inspiring story from the holy writ as she hummed a hymn to her patron goddess.

As she neared the song’s end, a movement between the trees at the edge of the clearing caught her eye. She glanced up, then pointedly returned her focus to her devotions, finishing the hymn without a pause.

“We missed you at supper last night, Calden.” She called out, turning to a different section of the book.

“Didn't feel... worthy of being at your guardians’ table after how I treated you the other morning.” Calden responded, emerging from where he had been -- not _really_ hiding -- among the trees at the edge of the clearing.

“Well, you are welcome to come join me for sunrise devotions any time you want, oh penitent one.” Julene said in a teasing tone, closing her book and taking a sashaying step away from the altar.

“Oh? Like we did day before yesterday?” Calden replied guiltily as he leaned against a tree, tugging his magical hat low over his brow and crossing his arms self-consciously across his chest. He watched Julene spin through a few steps, he thought he recognized the dance she was attempting to perform.

“Hmm, not necessarily like that.” Julene smiled. “You could just join me for prayer, or a hymn or dance.”

“Perhaps.” Calden responded and watched her spin for a few more minutes. Yes, he definitely recognized it.

“You're doing that dance wrong.” Calden announced softly.

Julene huffed, but continued to spin. “Well, not all of us grew up in a temple with Dance Masters to teach us. We do our best out here in the backwoods.”

“Well, your first mistake is that you're supposed to have a male partner.”

“What?” Julene stopped mid-step, staring at Calden.

“It's a dance for a couple.” The deceptively bland-looking young man explained, unfolding his arms and gesturing at her as he spoke. “It's part of the Spring rite, that's why you chose it, correct? It’s meant to celebrate rebirth and pray for fertility for the community’s fields and livestock. It's performed by a man and a woman together.”

“Men in my village don't dance, it's not considered to be… ‘manly’,” Julene admitted. “It would make them look ‘girly’ and weak.”

Calden snorted and crossed his arms again. “I know a few dervish who would be quite offended by that.”

“Like you?” Julene asked, seeing the far too personally indignant look on the young man’s face. “I’ve seen your twin scimitars, are you one of the Dawnflower’s Dervishes, ‘they who fight with whirling speed and dance with flashing blades’?”

“No, I am not.” Calden spat.

Julene arched an eyebrow at his vehement denial. “Indeed?”

“Maybe I was going to be once,” he admitted with a shrug, feigning indifference, “I never officially completed my training, I left it behind when I left the temple.”

Calden fell into a brooding silence, staring down at the ground, blinking back tears as painful memories again resurfaced.

“So, how is this dance supposed to go?” Julene asked. She lay a hand on Calden’s arm, breaking him out of his reverie. “Since I’m doing it so wrong.”

“I...” Calden faltered, shaking his head.

“Come on, show me.” She pulled gently on his arm, leading him out into the sunlit clearing.

Calden took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. He tapped the brim of his hat, it shimmered and shifted to a strip of cloth again.

“It starts like this…”

As Calden walked her through the movements, Julene followed him in fascination. He was hesitant at first, but as they progressed, he relaxed and even started to look like he was enjoying himself. His motions were full of a powerful grace, effortless in their strength and mobility.

The dance was slow at first, but the pace picked up as they moved closer together. They spiraled around one another until Calden spun the young woman around in a final pirouette that nestled her back against his chest and they were moving together as one.

“Loosen up, don't be afraid to show off how your body moves. Especially here, in your core: hips, stomach, chest.” Calden instructed, whispering into Julene’s ear, his breathing heavy from exertion and a none too small measure of excitement at her intimate proximity. One hand was entwined in hers in the air above her head, the other hand rested on her hip.

“This dance, like Sarenrae Herself, comes from Kelesh. They are a fiery, passionate people. My mother was half Kelishite, her cousin, the temple swordmistress, was born in Kelesh. Their dances are celebrations of what the body can do. This dance specifically is about what, uh...” He coughed in slight embarrassment, “what bodies can do _together_ , the generation of new life.”

Calden took a step back, he felt his heel bump into the stone altar, he deftly slipped out from behind Julene and spun to face her again. He took a step forward, pushing her back against the altar gently.

“That was... exciting,” Julene grinned. “You dance so well. We should do that again sometime.”

Calden gazed silently into Julene’s gorgeous hazel eyes.

“What?” She whispered, gazing back at him.

“I owe you a penance still.” Calden murmured, removing his headband and tossing it to the ground nearby, it reverted to a hat as soon as it left his hand. His darkly handsome demon-touched features were suddenly bared, the morning sun glinting off his glossy black horns.

“Yeah, you said that yesterday, and never explained yourself, and then didn't show up for supper.” Julene replied breathlessly, her eyes roaming his handsome, otherworldly face.

“I do my best to be a kind, considerate lover,” Calden answered, his voice soft and low as he placed his hands over hers. “I was not very kind, or considerate, to you morning before last.”

“I seem to remember being the one who started it.” Julene said with a wry, yet somewhat shy smile.

“And I thank you for that, it was… cathartic.” He smiled and brought her hands to his mouth and kissed the backs of her fingers. “But it doesn't change the fact that I lost control and surrendered to my Need, and cared nothing about your experience.”

“No, don't feel bad,” Julene begged, “it was good for me too, I-- What are you doing?”

Calden had released her hands and lowered himself to his knees in front of her. He was running a hand up her left leg, lifting her skirt as it went. He kissed the top of her now exposed knee.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, sliding his hand further up, then around to the back of her strong, silken-skinned thigh.

“I seem to remember being told NOT to trust you, then being thrown behind a bush and scared half to death by a demon.” Julene answered. She leaned back against the standing stone, her elbows behind her, propping herself on the flat top of the altar.

“You weren't scared,” Calden snorted, leaning in and kissing her inner thigh. “You were fascinated.”

“What can I say? I’m inquisit--.” Julene’s words cut off into a moan as his lips touched the crease where her leg met her torso.

“Do you _ever_ wear underclothing?” Calden asked the young woman teasingly as he leaned back slightly and hooked her knee over his shoulder. He pushed her leg out to the side as he leaned forward once more, spreading her open. He kissed the the coarse hair covering the mound between her legs. Julene shivered at his gentle nuzzling.

“Sometimes--” Julene began, then gasped as she felt what must be the incubus-spawn’s tongue flick the top of her slit. She had never felt something so wonderfully exciting before. He worked his way down one side of the cleft, his tongue performing a slow careful probing, then back up the other side; all the while paying careful attention to which movements and locations elicited the best responses, and lingering there for a time.

He paused again at the top, then suddenly thrust his tongue deeper within, searching for the hard bud hidden among the soft fleshy petals. It was soon found, and Julene felt her right leg buckle as a shock of delicious sensation shot through her body.

Calden caught her by the hips before she could fall. He draped her other leg over his other shoulder, and pressed her back against the stone. Julene moaned aloud, her breathing coming in short gasps as the tiefling’s tongue continued expertly darting and flitting into all her secret places, making her entire body twitch in response.

Her body curled inward, all thought dissolving besides an aching need to bring him closer, harder. She grasped at his head, fingers entwining into his black hair at the base of his skull, the other hand wrapped around one of his curving horns. She spread her legs wider and pressed her heels against his back, pulling him ever closer.

Abruptly he switched from licking, to sucking, enveloping that hidden bud in a sudden jolt of pure ecstasy. Her entire body shook as the orgasm drew from her a shuddering primal cry that seemed to echo from the mountains. He slowed for a moment, giving her a brief recovery before continuing again, bringing another soul-shattering climax, bigger than the first.

“More?” He asked, coming out from under her skirt and watching with a satisfied expression as she gasped for air.

“Yes! Oh gods, no. No more.” Julene begged, unable to form completely coherent thought.

Calden gave Julene a grin and eased her legs from his shoulders, lowering her to the ground. She leaned back against the stone with her eyes closed, focusing on regaining control of her breath and stretching out her still twitching legs.

“So, I’m guessing no one’s ever done that for you before.” Calden said. He sat back on his heels in front of Julene, kneeling between her outstretched legs.

Julene shook her head without lifting it from the stone.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.” Calden smiled, but then grunted, as if in pain. Julene opened her eyes and looked at him in concern. He was trying subtly to loosen his pants, which Julene realized were pressing tightly on a full, hard erection.

Julene reached for Calden’s waist, his pants today had a much easier to undo belt rather than the laces yesterday’s had, but he intercepted her hands.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Calden insisted, yet winced. “It will fade, this morning’s pleasure is all for you.”

“No, I’m not leaving you like this,” Julene insisted, reaching for his belt again. “It's too cruel.”

Calden sighed and let her unbuckle his belt, then shift the clothing binding his manhood. It all but sprang free, falling into her open hand. Julene gently stroked the shaft, feeling each fascinating ridge and bump and vein slide past her fingers. It twitched, rising suddenly as she neared the tip, almost escaping her grasp. Calden let out a sound that was half sigh, half moan at her gentle caresses.

“So, you freed it, what now?” He asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Stand up.” She instructed, he obeyed, standing before her.

Julene pulled her legs beneath her and got up on her knees, positioning herself in front of him, the stone altar just behind her. She enfolded his cock in her fingers again, gently squeezing as she placed her other hand beneath, cupping his balls and kneading them together softly.

Another moan vibrated in Calden’s chest as he rocked his hips, sliding his cock forward and back within her hand. Julene leaned in, her lips lightly brushing the sensitive tip, making it twitch up, bumping against her nose. She giggled, then shifted her grip so that the bottom of the shaft was exposed, she licked it, the point of her tongue sliding slowly from base to tip, feather-light and teasing as it bumped along the soft ridges that ringed the shaft.

Calden reached forward, an arm on either side of Julene’s head, and leaned against the stone altar. He pressed his hips towards Julene impatiently. She dodged his thrust and ran the tip of her tongue along the side of his cock, first one side and then the other.

“You _have_ done this before, though, haven't you?” Calden murmured accusingly.

“Oh, once or twice,” Julene answered coyly, and sucked gently at the small folds of skin where the head and shaft met. “Though never with one so... interestingly shaped.”

“Hm, you have my father’s demon blood to thank for that. It's much easier for a sex demon to return to willing prey if it leaves them... wanting more.”

Small beads of liquid began to seep from the tip of the young man’s achingly erect phallus. Julene ran her tongue across the opening, and found his taste to be surprisingly... pleasant. Calden shivered.

Slowly, gently, she took the head of his cock into her mouth, caressing it with her tongue and lips. Calden growled deep in his throat and rocked his hips forward, pressing his length deeper into her warm, moist mouth. Julene pressed her tongue against the bottom of the shaft as he rocked back, retreating briefly but not withdrawing. She kept her lips tight around him, sucking him in again and again as he moved forward and back.

She continued the kneading movements as his flesh tightened under her fingers and she heard his breathing becoming shallow and his movements more eager and deep as his moans and grunts of pleasure increased in frequency and volume.

One of Calden’s strong callused hands entwined into Julene’s hair, holding her auburn curls tightly as he thrust more deeply still, his rigid cock not quite gagging her as he started to reach climax.

With one final great quivering thrust, the young man cried out and his seed erupted, filling her mouth with a milky pleasantness that she somehow didn't mind at all.

With a last gentle squeeze, she released him. He withdrew and sank to his knees in front of her, his breathing ragged.

“I am sorry-- I usually try-- to give a warning, before...” Calden began, trying to control his breath enough to speak.

Julene stopped his words with a deep, passionate kiss, her tongue explored his mouth, feeling the abnormal sharpness of his canine teeth. His breath stopped and he froze, for fear of accidentally injuring her tongue.

“No more apologies,” Julene scolded when she pulled away from the kiss. He gasped for breath and lowered his demon-horned head, his damp black hair falling over his face.

“Calden, you don't have to be sorry for everything you do, _especially_ in being a lover.” Julene caught up his face in her hands. She tilted his gorgeously angular face up, meeting his demon-red eyes. “You are perfectly good at being _you_ , and _you_ are amazingly kind and good and considerate. Far more so than any other lover I have been with. Stop being sorry!”

Calden gave a small humorless laugh and closed his eyes. “All right, Julene. I will try.”

He leaned back away from her and worked at getting his pants belted back up.

Julene sat back against the altar stone, watching him and fingering her rune-inscribed necklace.

“So, you’ve given that necklace plenty of trial runs?” Calden asked, babbling awkwardly as he felt her watching him buckle his belt.

“I’m not some kind of _whore_ , if that's what you're asking.” She responded, crossing her arms defensively.

“No, no, I’m not.” Calden sighed, “I didn't... mean it like that.” He sat down cross-legged, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. “I-- I’m just trying to, well, figure you out. A woman our age in a small town like this should have been married off years ago. Yet here you are, having sex with strange men you meet in the forest... Not that I’m complaining.”

“There were a few trysts with young men from the village when I was in my teens.” Julene gazed off into the distance as she spoke, not looking at Calden. “But they all broke it off once their parents found out. The village all but shuns me.”

“I hear whispers, there was something odd about my parents, I don't know what, Halvar and Malene won't tell me the whole truth. They say it's for my protection. At any rate, all but the most, hm, deservedly unattached men in the village have wives now. So, I spend my time at the farm, or here, avoiding the village as much as I can. Despite how very... lonely I get.”

She drew in her legs, bringing them to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her knees self-consciously. “But, occasionally travelers pass through, looking for adventure in the mountains, and...” Julene trailed off with a shrug and a feeble gesture towards Calden.

“It's an opportunity to ease your ‘loneliness’. Without long-term consequences, or having to turn to the more undesirable men of your village.” The tiefling finished for her.

Julene looked to him and nodded. Their gazes locked, the silence stretched for an awkward moment as each of them tried to decide what to say next.

“There’s work to be done.” Julene said finally, “I need to get back, and Papa Hal is probably waiting for you in the pasture to inspect your work.”

Julene stood and retrieved her book from the altar, then looked back over her shoulder. “Will I see you at the farmhouse for supper?”

“Maybe.” Calden replied. “I will consider it.”

\---

The sun was about to set as a hesitant knock sounded at the farmhouse door. Julene dropped the small stack of wooden plates she was carrying onto the table and ran to open the door.

Calden stood outside, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He looked as if he was deciding whether he should turn and make a hasty retreat. His magic hat was in a headband form, this time looking like a small strip of braided leather across his brow.

“Calden!” Halvar boomed, grinning at the traveler. “Please, come in, young man, we’re about to have supper. Will you join us in sunset devotions first? We're primarily followers of Sarenrae around here, do you know Her rites?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” Calden answered as he ducked his tall frame through the farmhouse doorway. “My mother was a priestess in Her temple in Kenabres.”

“Oh, my. Then perhaps you should lead us.” Malene replied, holding out a hand-carved wooden ankh.

“No, no, ma'am.” Calden protested gently, his hands raised. “This is your home, I would not presume. Please, go ahead.”

The farm wife and her husband went to stand near the building’s westward facing window. Julene followed and stood beside the elderly couple. Calden stood behind them, where he could see the setting sun, but still stay a respectful step back from the family.

The family began to sing one of the sunset recitations. Calden joined in, stumbling occasionally, as the farmer and his wife intoned words that were slightly different from the ones he remembered. Their version of the recitation was more... harsh. The verse about redemption for the willing was skipped entirely, in favor of repeating the call to swiftly destroy the unrepentant.

Calden wondered silently at the variations as the sun dipped below the horizon. The family finished their devotional and returned to setting up for the meal.

Julene handed Calden the stack of plates she had been holding earlier. “Help me set the table?” He nodded and began placing the plates around the table as Julene returned to the kitchen area to retrieve cups and utensils.

The meal passed uneventfully, with simple yet delicious food and genial conversation, dominated by the boisterous Halvar. He spoke about the goings on around the farm and the gossip brought by Madam Walen, who Halvar had mentioned Calden's plants to.

“She wants the lot of them, but doesn't have room for them all in her garden. She suggested that we plant two of them here by the farmhouse and she will send her apprentice to harvest it and give us a portion of her earnings from the medicine she makes.”

Halvar grinned at the deceptively plain-looking young man sitting to his left. “You’ve brought us quite a bit of income, young man, thank you for your hard work. I consider your task for us complete. Would you be willing to do one last task for me, though? I need someone to take the rest of those plants to Madam Walen’s tomorrow.”

“Yes sir, I can do that.” Calden replied, standing and joining Julene in gathering the empty dishes.

“Then you can see if she or other people in town have more tasks you could help them with,” Halvar suggested. “Since you still have many penances to perform.”

“I, uh, do.” Calden answered, wondering yet again at the old farmer’s version of his faith. In Calden’s own upbringing it was arrogant and rude to presume you knew the extent of another's penance. Sarenrae taught that if a being was truly repentant, it was Her followers’ task to forgive freely and render aid in their penance (and if the being was not interested in redemption, to bring it a swift end by the sword). Unless you were clergy, it was not your place to judge another being’s penances complete or not. That was between the gods and the one seeking redemption.

“Good, that's settled,” Halvar announced, clapping Calden on the shoulder once again as the young man returned to the table to gather another stack of dirty dishes and utensils. “Tomorrow morning you may borrow my handcart to transport the plants.”

“I’ll go with him to bring it back.” Julene offered excitedly.

“No, Madam Walen’s apprentices can bring it back,” Halvar replied sternly. “I don't need you gallivanting around the forest when you have chores to do.”

“Yes sir.” Julene sighed. She had hoped for an excuse to spend more time with her interesting new friend. It looked like it would be a little harder than she thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Work in Progress.


End file.
